


Under the Beech Tree

by Kaatiba



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Canon Compliant, Desi Harry Potter, F/M, Felix Felicis, Fluff, Gen, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Light Angst, Love Potion/Spell, Missing Scene, Mutual Pining, One Shot, POV Ginny Weasley, POV Harry Potter, Quidditch, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:14:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23338210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaatiba/pseuds/Kaatiba
Summary: A series of canon-compliant missing scenes and Hinny oneshots from the HBP Era
Relationships: Harry Potter & Ron Weasley, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter (mentioned), The Weasleys - Relationship
Comments: 6
Kudos: 79





	1. Blushing

**Author's Note:**

> An acompanying inspiration Hinny playlist:  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5tQNSIb5iLAeZPbJEGu2e0?si=s9UPhJBXTjSmImpsdB8XtA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> small, post-quidditch practice moments that add up to something more

“Alright, everyone! That’s it for tonight. Good job today. As long as we continue to work on communication among our defense, we’ll be solid for the next match!” 

Ginny pulled to a hault, along with the other chasers, and they all followed Harry’s lead by slowly lowering themselves to the ground and forming a loose huddle. Her eyes lingered over Harry’s windswept hair, which was messy enough on a good day. She felt Dean at her side, and tried to lean into him, though her eyes followed their captain. 

“Cootes, Peakes, I have a flying drill I want you to try out next week to help improve your balance,” they nodded in unison, “Ron, I reckon it couldn’t hurt if you joined them, but good job today,” finally, he turned to the three chasers, “Demelza, really excellent form today,” she smiled and nodded, “Dean,” Harry coughed slightly, “also good, but er focus a bit more on your passing technique,” Ginny sense rather than saw Dean frown a hair, before Harry went on, “Ginny, er, good job also.” Ginny couldn’t help but notice the way in which Harry’s eyes quickly flitted away from hers, he brushed over her feedback, and his cheeks seemed a bit pink. 

She tried not to read too much into it; afterall, he probably just wanted to grab dinner, and of course all of their cheeks were a bit flushed from the wind. 

At that, they all started to head to the locker rooms to change. Dean gave Ginny a quick kiss on the cheek before peeling off with some of the others to go take a quick shower before dinner. Eventually, only she and Harry were left alone. Probably because he’d been moving unnaturally slowly to peel his gear off, but again, Ginny needn’t linger on such insignificant details.

Afterall, she thought with only a twinge of guilt, her attractive, doting boyfriend was only a few yards away in a steamy shower, her mind should’ve started fantasizing about that. not tracing Harry’s profile as he took his glasses off and rubbed the top of his nose with an ungloved hand. There was a red little indent there, and he scrunched his nose up as he rubbed. It was horribly endearing to her. She slammed her locker door, gear thrown hastily inside. 

At the sudden noise, Harry glanced up, seemingly remembering she was there. For a moment, they just looked at each other and listened to the distant sound of water running. 

Sighing, Ginny broke the moment with small talk, “I’m starving, you?”

“I could eat a hippogriff.” 

She gestured at the showers, “I think these blokes might be in there a while - you know Ron has to rinse and repeat.”

Harry chuckled slightly at that. 

“So,” she leaned against the locker, suddenly nervous, “Wanna ditch them to get some supper?”

Harry glanced over at the hallway leading to the showers, probably deciding whether or not Ron would be pissed, before turning back with a soft smile, “Yeah, sure.”

They walked beside each other across the darkening grounds. It was a peaceful night, Ginny could hear the crickets in the background. Harry complained about the long parchment he still had to write for Snape (“You know, I didn’t think anyone could beat Umbridge for worst teacher, but Snape gives it a right go, doesn’t he?”) and they started giggling over increasingly ridiculous insulting nicknames they came up with for him. 

Too soon, they reached the entrance hall. As they approached the Gryffindor table, some of Ginny’s peers hailed her, calling her to sit by them. There wasn’t any extra space up at the head of the table with them. For a second, Ginny was struck with indecision. She wanted to eat with Harry, just the two of them. But she also didn’t want to risk adding fuel to the fire of school gossip and put strain on her and Dean’s slightly tenuous relationship. But why should it be weird for her to sit alone with him? He was Ron’s best mate, so surely-

She cut off her own thoughts. She knew why it’d feel like more than that. Making up her mind, she turned to Harry trying to feign casual indifference, “Do you mind?”

Harry, equally casually, said, “No of course not, go on.” Though, for a split second, Ginny could’ve sworn she saw his face fall, before his features smoothed over. Ginny felt a pang of guilt and regret, she had asked him to ditch the team and eat with her after all. And it wasn’t like grabbing a post-practice meal in the Great Hall was the same as asking someone to Madame Puddifoot’s tea shop, but when it came to Harry, everything always felt more loaded than it really was. 

Every shared laugh, look, high five, inside joke: it all felt like uncharted territory, always thrilling and exciting in a way that her other friendships would never be. 

She sighed as she settled herself down amongst her roommates and tried to ease into the conversation, but her eyes kept going back to Harry at the other end of the table, who’d joined Seamus and Neville. 

Eventually, the rest of the Gryffindor team meandered in, and both Ron and Dean himself also sat by Harry. She caught his eye and tried to smile, but her heart wasn’t in it. Suddenly, Ginny felt overwhelmingly sad and not hungry in the least bit. She picked at the roast on her plate, while her friends started gossiping about the next “Slug Club” party. Ginny supposed she’d have to take Dean. 

She pulled her head back up to see Harry, now accompanied by both Ron and Hermione start heading back toward the common room. She supposed she should go spend a moment or two with Dean, before she turned in for the night, but she remained firmly planted in her chair.

As if sensing her eyes on him from all the way across the great hall, Harry suddenly glanced back, and their eyes met for a moment. The words around her became a buzz, and when Harry finally turned back around and left, she was sure that the blush on his cheeks hadn’t been from flying.

She knew that her blush certainly wasn’t.


	2. Zodiacs and Love Potions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A pining Ginny confronts a plotting Romilda Vane.

Ginny was minding her own business in the squishy armchair by the common room fireplace when she saw a familiar gaggle of girls from the year below her, led by Romilda Vane. Out of her periphery, she watched them settle at a nearby work table. They opened their books, but didn’t seem to have much intention of studying. 

Ginny refocused on her book,  _ Unfogging the Future _ , though she was growing increasingly bored with the paragraph she’d read several times now, having not really taken it in. It was about the zodiac signs and their dispositions. 

According to the book she was a Leo since her birthday was in August (she briefly thought about how Harry, with his July birthday was also a Leo), and how because of this, Ginny was destined to be confident, a natural leader, a bit of a social butterfly.

She found herself musing about how Leo, the lion, appropriately aligned itself with most of the Gryffindor house values. She fit the mold well enough, being fairly outgoing and gregarious, though for “natural leader” she figured Harry fit that role best. Unbidden, she recalled memories of the DA and Harry’s affinity for teaching. The thought made her chest feel as warm as the fire by her feet. 

Hating herself as she did so, she turned to the page on zodiac compatibility and scanned her eyes until she found a paragraph on Leo and Leo relationships. It wasn’t as bad as she’d feared, though she scowled a bit when it came to the warnings about having two “alpha” or “domineering” personalities in one couple. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were probably right, Divination and all its subfields were likely horsehsit anyways. 

She looked up Leo and Capricorn relationships, since she deduced that was Dean’s sign. Scanning quickly, she saw the phrases “opposites attract” and “well balanced” and quickly closed her book, sliding further back into her chair. 

_ What am I doing? _ She thought miserably, letting her eyes shut.  _ I should be happy, I AM happy _ , she thought more forcefully. 

She was quickly drawn from her musings by a snippet of conversation floating over from the table of fourth years. It was way past midnight, and Ginny and the group were the only ones left in the common room. Thus, it was easy for her to slowly open her eyes again and eavesdrop.

It was Romilda Vane, “He’s such a gentleman! The other day, I ran into him between corridors, and he held the door open for me! Can you believe it?”

Ginny rolled her eyes, guessing who they were talking about. Ginny supposed Harry would have to let several doors drop on Romilda before she finally took a hint and moved on. The mental image made Ginny vindictively pleased, then once again guilty. She had no right to care about who did and didn’t have a crush on Harry. It wasn’t like she was his…well, she was just his friend.

“-and it just came in from Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes!”

Ginny’s ears perked back up at the sound of her brothers’ business. She subtly leaned forward. 

“-I mean, I reckon he’s noticed me already, he’s always a bit fidgety whenever I’m around-” Ginny resisted the urge to snort. “-so this is just a little extra..incentive for him, so he can take me to the Christmas party!” she finished brightly. 

At this, Ginny threw caution to the wind, and stuck her whole head around the wing of the armchair to see what Romilda was showing to her friends. With a building sense of fury, Ginny saw her brothers' patented WonderWitch Love Potion. 

Filch had banned them, but she wasn’t surprised Fred and George had managed to bypass the system. Normally, she’d be amused by their rule-bending abilities, but right now, she wanted to hex them both into oblivion for manufacturing such a horrid product. 

Ginny wanted to slap the garishly pink bottle from Romilda’s stupid hands and smash it on the floor. She tried to even out her breath. 

“But how’ll you give it to him?” an unfamiliar blonde piped up. 

“I haven’t decided yet; I got extra, so I can experiment. I thought about spiking his morning pumpkin juice, or maybe offering him some gillywater with it, y’know after quidditch perhaps, or maybe-”

Ginny couldn’t stand it anymore. She hastily jumped out of her chair, and whirled around the face the group, now staring at her, startled. Uncowed, Ginny marched over to the table, placing her hands on top, and leaning down, so she was almost nose to nose with Romilda herself. 

One of Romilda’s friends gasped and sat back, but Ginny didn’t spare her an angry glance. She only had eyes for Romilda, who stared back at her warily. 

“Wh-?”

“ _ Do you hear yourself? _ ” Ginny whispered furiously. “You have a crush on Harry? So you’re going to  _ drug  _ him,  _ spike  _ his bloody drink?  _ What the hell is wrong with you? _ ”

Romilda tittered defensively, “Don’t say it like  _ that _ , I’m not-”

Ginny cut her off, “Not better than a rapist? No, you aren’t,” and with that Ginny snatched the little bottle right from the younger girl’s hand, ignoring her indignant sputter. 

Romilda, now blushing furiously, while her friends remained quiet, looking back and forth between her and Ginny, tried to regain control of the situation, “Whatever. Take that one, like I said, I have more where-”

Ginny’s voice dropped an octave, “I swear to God, Romilda, if I find out you tried to use this on Harry -or anyone for that matter- I. Will. End. You.”

With that, she started stalking towards the dormitory stairs, though she was so riled up, she doubted sleep would come anytime soon. She was about the take the first step when Romilda called to her back,

“Why do you care so much anyways!? What’s he to  _ you _ ?”

Ginny stopped cold for a second. She turned around just long enough to retort, “It’s not about Harry, it’s about principle,” before she ran up the stairs to her dorm, where she promptly emptied the glass vial into the toilet.  She numbly watched it swirl down the basin as she flushed, her anger and adrenaline leaving her to feel cold and empty again. 

She wasn’t lying, it wasn’t about Harry.  Or at least, not  _ all  _ of it. 

She sighed. She should probably warn Harry against accepting any drinks from Romilda or her crowd anytime soon. Though, the thought of mentioning this incident to Harry felt like some kind of admission.  She finally decided she’d tell Hermione who could pass on the message for her, and she drifted into a fitful sleep with dreams of lions in pink scarves and green eyes and drowning in goblets of gillywater. 


	3. History

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One of several sunlit days spent under the beech tree by the black lake, unwittingly recreating history

Harry had never been so in love with the color yellow. 

He loved the way Ginny’s red eyelashes turned yellow at the ends and the way her red hair reflected the light. Sitting under the beech tree at the edge of the black lake, Ginny laying back against his chest between his legs, Harry felt covered in buttery melting orange and yellow. He felt sunlight on every inch of his skin even under the dappled shade of the branches above. 

Harry had never been so in love. 

He leaned down and kissed the top of her head, which was warm in the heat. They hadn’t moved or said anything for a few minutes, so Ginny roused at the sensation and turned her head backwards to look at him properly.

Her face was so close, he went cross eyed to look at her and his glasses shifted down his nose, so they were nearly touching her lightly freckled forehead. 

Everything was warm. Everything he looked at was bright and sunkissed.

“What was that for?” She murmured, smiling softly.

“Nothing,” he smiled back. 

They finally broke eye contact, and Ginny gingerly pulled herself from Harry’s chest to his dismay. He immediately missed her warmth and felt disgruntled. It must have shown on his face because as she gingerly got to her feet, stretching like a cat as she did so, she caught his eye and chuckled. 

After a quickly stifled yawn and an overhead stretch (during which Harry enjoyed the extra two inches of exposed freckles before she dropped her arms), Ginny resettled herself, sitting criss cross on the ground, now facing Harry. 

Without saying anything, Ginny examined Harry’s face, and lightly pushed a strand of his messy black hair from his forehead, tracing her eyes over his scar. There was something painfully tender in the way she looked at him that made Harry’s heart strain and chest heat, but when she spoke, she said,

“Lucky bastard, got all the good genes.”

It was unexpected, and Harry chuckled. 

“How do you reckon?”

She picked up his hand this time, and started running her own long fingers over his, tracing the knuckles, the palm, the back of the hand, where the scars from his detentions still stood: _I must not tell lies._

Her fingertips paused over that and he saw her other hand, now resting on the grass between them, imperceptibly clench before she said,

“I can’t walk a foot outside the castle this time of year without burning-”

And, she was right, Harry noted that beneath her natural blush, there was a slight burn tinging the tops of her cheeks where her freckles were most concentrated. 

“-and it’s not like any of us need anymore freckles!”

Harry thought she was right if the “we” she was referring to were the Weasleys. Harry vaguely wondered how many freckles all the siblings had between them before Ginny went on,

“But you! You and your nice, perfect, tanned skin, you only look better the hotter it gets!”

Though she said it in an accusing tone, Harry still flushed at the compliment, and smirked down at where her hand still held his; it was true, that the thin, white scars stood out in stark contrast to the quickly darkening brown skin on the back of his hand. 

“But I like your freckles,” he said, grinning at her.

“I like the ones here,” he leaned forward to kiss her nose, “and the ones here, and here,” he placed two kisses to the apples of her cheeks before attacking blindly.

Ginny giggled and finally pushed his head away, squealing.

“You’re such a dork,” she said brightly. 

Harry vaguely registered a few third years (or fourth years? He didn’t care) headed to their stretch of the shore. Though, maintaining privacy and secrecy hardly mattered when every other word out of the school’s collective mouth had been about them the last few weeks. That’s why he hardly thought twice before leaning back in. 

“Oh yeah?” he wiggled his eyebrows ridiculously before giving her a proper snog on the lips this time. 

Ginny huffed a laugh into the kiss before easing into, and slowly shifting forward, so that she was almost up against his chest again. 

As the kiss got more heated, a gust of wind swept around them from the lake, rustling the leaves, and Ginny’s hair underneath his fingers, and he heard the conspicuous chatter of the students walking past them.

Ginny briefly broke away (always to Harry’s dismay) to turn to the three kids who were now plainly ogling them, having finally recognized them. 

She grinned brightly and waved before calling out loudly, “Enjoying the show?” She quickly resumed melting Harry’s brain by continuing their snog while Harry distractedly listened to the sounds of the onlookers obviously scampering away in embarrassment. 

He himself could not have cared less. After years of living under a giant magnifying glass, he’d grown impervious to the gossip, or at least to this kind of gossip that he was proud to fess up to. 

While he always got sick of people staring at his scar, he frankly couldn’t fault anyone for staring at him and Ginny: they were simply radiant. 

They finally broke off, both their lips having grown numb and clumsy, as the sky started to show signs of darkening across the lake’s dark surface. 

Ginny leaned back against the trunk of the beech tree.

“I love it here,” she said, looking up the branches as she spoke, but squeezing Harry’s hand on the last word. 

“Yeah..” Harry trailed off, content to enjoy looking at her profile. He finally had permission to stare at her to his heart’s desire, and he was damned if he wasn’t going to make the most of it. 

Eventually, they came to the agreement it was time to head back to the castle for dinner (“Can’t have Ron thinking I’m ruining your curfew”), and reluctantly stood and gathered their things.

But, before they turned to go, Ginny pulled out something from the pocket of her school bag that had almost fallen out. Harry recognized it as a muggle swiss army knife. 

“Where’d you get that?”

“Oh, this? Dad gave it to me for a birthday a while back. Cool, innit? Kinda reminds me of a wand for the muggles, eh? Though I haven’t found much to do with it I can’t just use my wand for.”

Harry chuckled at that description, but then had an idea. 

“I know one thing muggles use it for sometimes,” and filled with sudden giddiness, Harry pulled her over the back of the tree. He held his hand out, and Ginny handed him the tool. Harry pulled out the biggest blade and held it up.

But by then, with Ginny’s curious eyes following him, he’d grown sheepish.

“Well, I’ve only, only heard about this..I don’t know if it’s you know allowed-”

“When have rules ever stopped you, Harry?”

Buoyed, Harry continued, “Well, sometimes, muggles like to carve stuff, like say their initials..like a couple’s initials, and a er…..a heart or something in the tree…” 

He was now blushing furiously and started to lower the blade,

“But that’s...that’s a bit silly and..pointless I suppose,” he rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand.

Ginny just cupped her hand over his and said, “Well now I won’t leave until you show me.”

Harry obliged and started carving an “H”. 

“Blimey, this is harder than it looks.”

Ginny smirked, “Oi, Potter, put some elbow grease into it.”

Harry added a plus sign and started on the “G” before realizing how hard the curves would be. 

“Er..maybe we could just use a wand instead?”

Ginny lightly swatted his arm, “No way, I want the authentic experience,” she scolded, but her eyes were fond and sparkling. 

The sky was turning purple as the day faded into dusk, and their spot was growing chillier as it darkened.

Finally, painstakingly, Harry finished the initials so it said “H + G”.

He turned to Ginny, “It'll last for..for a long time now,” he couldn’t quite meet her eye, but Ginny pulled him down for a quick kiss, and his embarrassment faded. 

Yes, this _was_ something made to last for a long time. 

Before Harry could react, Ginny pulled away and used her wand to carve a heart shape around their initials, looking smug as she did so with ease.

“Hey!” Harry complained, “I thought you wanted to do it the muggle way!”

Ginny smirked, “I did, darling, but if I asked you to do anymore, we’d miss all of supper, and Ron might have your head,” she gestured behind them to the lake which was growing darker and glossier as the sun started setting in earnest.

Harry just jostled her shoulder playfully, and they began their walk back to the castle, hands clasped and swinging slightly between them. 

It was dark enough that they hadn’t noticed the other carving hidden towards the bottom of the massive tree trunk. 

They wouldn’t find it for another week or so. 

It read, “L + J”


	4. Felix Felicis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the wake of Harry and Dumbledore leaving to collect the Horcrux

“Ginny!..GINNY,” Hermione came flying up the stairs of the Gryffindor girls’ dormitories. Ginny, who’d been laying on her bed, with a potions book propped up on her chest, startled immediately. “Hermione? What’s happened?” like a soldier called to duty, Ginny braced herself for whatever crazy news was about to be dropped. Ever since the fight at the ministry the year before, she’d known that all of them were always on call for when Harry would need them next.

Her heart dropped an inch, “Harry? Is he okay?”

Hermione swallowed a breath or two before replying, “He’s, yes, Ginny, he will be, I..” Now, suddenly she seemed at a loss on where to begin, but Ginny was growing more anxious by the second, “So where is he then?” she asked, sternly, trying to steer Hermione around to the point.”

“He-he’s with Dumbledore!”

Ginny’s heart rate leveled out a bit in relief. “Then what’s the problem? I don’t understand, that’s the safest place he can be,” Giny watched Hermione’s face twitch, the face that the bloody trio always made when they knew more than she did, and didn’t want to tell her. 

It made her blood boil. “Hermione!”

“Fine,” Hermione sighed, looking resigned, “Come down to the common room, so we can grab Ron. Oh, and I need to contact the rest of the DA.” At a loss, Ginny trailed behind her, potions homework very much forgotten.

She hardly spared a glance while Hermione bodily dragged Ron to join them, and they all sped-walk from the portrait hole down a corridor. “I know you hate explaining things, but where are you going?” Ginny grumped. 

“The Room of Requirement, it, we need some privacy is all,” Hermione said in a forcibly measured tone. Ron attempted to throw Ginny an apologetic look, but before he could, Hermione tugged them both into the nearest empty classroom.

“Why-?” Ron tripped, but Hermione just shut the door firmly, “I forgot for a moment, Crabbe and Goyle..” Ron nodded like this was a logical and complete argument. Ginny wanted to shake them both to see if any answers fell out.

She watched as Hermione pulled out a DA coin and started sending out a message, but her hand started shaking, so Ron took over. Ginny wrapped her arms around her chest and watched in stony silence for a few minutes. The only thing she could think about was Harry. What was he doing? With Dumbledore? Where were they going? And what could be so bad, that it had unsettled Hermione so badly?

She didn’t like any of the answers her mind conjured. 

A few minutes later, someone slid the door open. Ron and Hermione looked relieved as Nevile entered, followed by Luna peeking her light blonde head in. 

Ron frowned though, looking over their heads a bit. He and Hermione shared a quick look. “Right,” she said, “I guess we’re all of the DA right now.” 

“At least there’ll be more of this for each of us,” Ron pulled out a small vial. 

“What-?” Ginny, Neville, and Luna all started to speak at once, but Hermione shushed them. She still seemed flustered, so Ron took over, turning to the others. 

“So Harry and Dumbledore need us, obviously.” He looked around at the meager group, “Harry is with Dumbledore now, they’re uh leaving the castle for somewhere to do something..well it’s top secret, but” he and Hermione shared a concerned glance, worsening Ginny’s nerves. 

“But you two know what it is?” she asked, trying to stay cool. They nodded solemnly. “And is it..Will he come back?” She couldn’t keep all the fear out of her voice. 

“We hope so,” Hermione said, crossing her own arms protectively. 

“But he needs our help here,” Ron rallied, “Malfoy, well Harry reckons he’s a Death Eater,” he and Hermione shared some kind of knowing look, “but we do know that he’s involved with You-Know-Who’s crowd, and Harry reckons he’s going to try something,” he looked out the window nervously, “something bad tonight.”

“And we’re going to stop him?” Neville said, stepping forward.“Of course,” Luna piped in, also moving closer in, “We’ve been waiting all year to help.”

Ron nodded, “Good.” Hermione uncrossed her arms, “To help us, Harry left us this..what’s uh left of his felix felicis potion, it’s a potion for good luck as you probably know.” They did. It was extremely rare and coveted in the wizarding world. “Harry wants us to take the rest of it for protection,” Ron finished.

Ginny wanted to scoff at how predictable it all was; Harry leaving Hogwarts to go on an apparently deadly, ultra-secret journey with Dumbledore, but worrying about them inside the castle more. It made her want to punch him and kiss him in equal measure. 

Also, Ginny remembered Harry telling her the story of how he won it from Slughorn, but he never told it when or why he’d taken some of it before. The idea of him keeping something from her made her heart sink lower. The whole situation made her sick with worry, though she didn’t hesitate when the passed vial reached her. 

Like a shot of firewhiskey, she threw back the last remnant of the potion, and closed her eyes, waiting. 

Almost immediately, she felt like gravity no longer affected her. All of her worries evaporated. Of course Harry would come back to her, he was the hero. They loved each other. And she and her friends would protect Hogwarts at all cost, she knew it. It didn’t matter if they faced twenty Death Eaters, they’d all make it through unscathed, and she’d see Harry soon enough; then she could punch him or kiss him or both.

She opened her eyes to the others whose eyes were now shining with determination and confidence. 

“We have several hours until this wears off, so let’s make the most of it,” Hermione said, leaning towards Ron to look at his gold watchface. 

“Shall we?” Ginny pointed at the door. They all strode out quickly. This time, she wasn’t following the back of Hermione’s robes, she was following the glowing sense of surety in her chest. 

_We’re here for you, Harry. Wherever you are._


End file.
